


I thought love was free.

by TooAceForThisShit



Series: KuroKen Week 2020 [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5 times plus 1 time, Abandonment Issues, Child Abandonment, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, KuroKen Week, KuroKen Week 2020, M/M, Panic Attacks, kuroken week day 3, pls dont read if any of those are triggering for u
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-23 08:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23674999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooAceForThisShit/pseuds/TooAceForThisShit
Summary: The first time Kenma witnesses one of Kuro’s panic attacks he’s 15 almost 16.His first year of high school had been stressful, not as stressful as he thought it would be with Kuro close again, his last year of middle school without Kuro had made things strained to say the least now he doesn’t have to sit alone and worry about other kids when Kuro’s there sitting next to him, with big smiles and warm hands, and chattering about something to do with volleyball even though Kenma would much rather hear about anything else when they’re not at practice.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: KuroKen Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1702006
Comments: 5
Kudos: 131





	I thought love was free.

1.

The first time Kenma witnesses one of Kuro’s panic attacks he’s 15 almost 16. 

His first year of high school had been stressful, not as stressful as he thought it would be with Kuro close again, his last year of middle school without Kuro had made things strained to say the least now he doesn’t have to sit alone and worry about other kids when Kuro’s there sitting next to him, with big smiles and warm hands, and chattering about something to do with volleyball even though Kenma would much rather hear about anything else when they’re not at practice. 

He’s just finished his homework and had moved to his bed to play video games until his mother tells him to stop and go to sleep. When his door opens with a creak, he’s about to tell his mom that he finished his homework when he looks up and sees Kuro sneaking into his room. 

“Kuro?” he’s bundled up in a sweater and sweat pants, hunched in on himself, he’s never seen Kuro like this, he drops his console onto the bed with a thump, “What are you doing here…” it’s not until Kuro falls into bed beside him that he realizes that Kuro’s breathing heavier than normal. 

He touches Kuro’s wrist lightly, causing him to jerk out of his grasp, “I--” Kuro mumbles out, sounding strained, his skin his white as a sheet, his eyes never staying in one place long. 

“You’re freaking me out, what’s going on.” the longer this drags on the more he can’t help but wish he hadn’t dropped his game so he had something to do with his hands. 

Kuro shakes his head, quickly, “It’s-- I’m fine, this happens.” 

As soon as the words leave Kuro’s mouth Kenma wants him to take it back because this sure hasn’t happened when he’s around and if it has he wasn’t there, and-- 

He shouldn’t work himself into a panic when Kuro’s panicking. He tries to think of the things that help him when his anxiety gets the worst of him, yet this seems a million times worst when it’s Kuro and not him. At least with himself, he can just ride it out until it’s less intense. 

He thinks back to when they were kids and how clingy Kuro was and how he was always looking for contact in uncomfortable places, or how he still does it sometimes either when Kenma’s tense of when they sit close to one another on long car rides, their arms touching. 

He reaches out slowly, without a second thought as much as he wants to sit there and figure it out, he can’t do that right now. So he goes slow, touching his shoulder, running his fingers down his arm until he reaches his hand, then he holds on tight pulling it close to his chest, he feels his face flush but he pushes that to the back of his mind, “Breathe with me?” 

Kuro’s eyes are still wide, and he’s shaking, but he’s looking at him, and that’s enough for now. It has to be.

2\. 

Kenma is 18 and he’s used to Kuro’s anxieties, more so than he’d say his own. This time is unlike the others, beforehand he knew what to expect in the sense of comforting, of being a steady touch when everything else felt like too much, he could be silent and be calm and just hold on until he can sleep. 

He never had to say much, not until it was the next morning and Kuro was himself, not until he couldn’t help himself and asked Kuro what set him off, those conversations were never his favourite and rarely held any idea of what to say the next time, Kuro liked to keep to himself until he couldn’t take it anymore. 

And he was the only person who knew. 

He thought before when he was younger and nieve that Kuro’s dad might have known, but that was proven wrong later. 

It was only Kenma. 

When he was woken from his phone ringing months after Kuro had left for college, snow lining his windows, he had just managed to fall asleep, when he was jerked awake by the ringtone that Kuro had set himself years ago, he stares at his phone on his bedside table contemplating the merits of ignoring it and dealing with whatever Kuro needed in the morning, knowing it was probably just another short call about being sorry for missing their weekly call yesterday. 

It’s decided for him when it rings a second time when he let the first one go to voicemail. He tugs it out of the charger, rolling so he’s facing the wall he puts the phone to his ear balancing it there, he closes his eyes. “Mhm..” 

There’s no reply he almost thinks Kuro hadn’t meant to call him when there’s the sound of someone struggling to breathe on the other line. He sits up, leaning against his headboard he grips his phone tighter. “Kuro?” 

It’s quiet again, “Tetsurou?” he whispers, trying to keep his voice down as he shares a wall with his parents. He counts to ten in his head when he doesn’t get anything, he knows what to do he’s just never done it over the phone. “On a scale to one to ten, how bad?” 

There’s a sharp gasp, and then he finally says something, “umm… six.” 

He nods, okay not that bad he can deal with a six, over the phone will be a struggle, he racks his brain for how this will work, how he can be that comforting presence. Never once has he felt like this was too much for only him, at this moment though he wishes he knew more of what to do, he can’t go there now it’s three in the morning, he has school tomorrow, plus his parents will freak out if he's not there in the morning. 

He normally doesn’t feel the need to talk more than he needs to, but when his eyes catch on the recent game he was playing, he starts talking about all the things he remembers from it, where the storytelling fell through or when it added more to it, and he talks until his voice is hoarse and his eyes are heavy, until all he can hear on the other end is slow deep breathes, soon to be sleep. 

He wants to reach out, he wants to be there. He wants to touch him and hold him, but this will due. His heartaches and his hand hurts from where he’s pressing his phone to his ear. 

3.

Kenma is 20 and trying to unlock the door, with his phone to his ear, and his books in his arms. He can’t remember who’s on the other line at this point from the droning on that’s happening on the other end; it has nothing to do with him. 

He almost cheers when he kicks open his door, locking it behind him, he kicks off his shoes and drops his books on the first available surface which happens to the couch, he winces when one of them falls to the floor, he stares at it in disdain, waiting for it to go back on the couch all on its own. When it doesn’t he leaves it there and heads to the kitchen pouring himself a glass of water. 

When the voice on the other end is quiet, he pulls his phone away from his ear only to realize the call had been cut off, sighing in relief, he plugs it into the charger on the counter. Draining his cup he puts it in the sink.

He turns to leave the kitchen, only to look down and see Kuro hidden under the table with a blanket pulled over his shoulders, sheets of paper spread out in front of him, he stares. He shouldn’t be shocked this happens often enough. “What you up to?” 

Kuro doesn’t look up from his phone, “Hey Kenma, did you know that octopuses have three hearts.”

He swats in front of the table, he nods his head, “Told me that one already.” 

Kuro shakes his head and starts scrolling through his phone faster. He hums to himself, he waits for Kuro to say more, “Tetsurou you okay?” 

“Yes? I mean no, I’m looking through---I’ve been trying to do my homework for three hours--but then I started thinking, and now I’m reading all these facts and I don’t think any of these are real, because who’s---who’s sitting down and figuring this shit out, they could say anything and nobody would even ask a question about it, and here I am--” the longer he goes on the faster he starts talking, Kenma tries to make sense of what he’s saying. 

It’s when he starts shaking that he clues in, “Did something happen?” he interrupts, he tries to catch his eye but he can’t seem to get him to focus long enough, he’s now shifting through the papers on the ground his phone laid out in front of him. 

Kuro shakes his head, “No, no, no.” he waves his hands around, “I was just--” 

Kenma takes things into his own hands, moving the papers and his phone out his way, as he crawls under the table, Kuro doesn’t seem to even notice that the papers have been moved, or that Kenma’s now next to him. 

He leans into his side, pulling the blanket around his own shoulders, Kuro’s mumbling to himself none of the words he can make out himself. It had been so long since he had last seen Kuro like this, and some part, some selfish part of himself thought he’d never have to see his best friend like this. After he started seeing a counsellor and things had gotten easier, but no here he is again pulling Kuro’s hands away from his hair so he doesn’t pull it out. 

He doesn’t want to see Kuro in pain. 

He doesn’t want to be just Kuro’s friend. 

He doesn’t want to just hold Kuro well he’s having panic attacks, he wants to be there all the time, he wants to hold him when he’s happy, he wants to be the comfort for always not for now. 

He holds on, and he doesn’t ask when it gets too much for tears to start coming down his face.

4\. 

Kenma’s 22 and he doesn’t know what to do. 

The longer he watched the more hopeless he feels. It was useless. 

He watched as the person he loved curled in on himself, shielding himself from the people around him, and all he could do was watch the tv in vain. 

There were people around Kuro and he couldn’t tell what had set it off, all he knew was that Kuro was in the middle of an after-game interview and the next he was pale and not breathing. 

It’s torture. 

He watches in slow motion as Kuro’s coach gets him out, watches as he pulled away from the camera, frozen and still, and hardly breathing. When he’s out of sight, he fumbles for his phone, it rings and rings and rings, and rings. 

He can’t take his eyes off the screen as another person from Kuro’s team is brought up and starts talking about the game like nothing happened no matter what questions are asked. 

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he goes to move the hair out of his face.

5\. 

It’s hours later when his phone rings, he’s in the middle of a stream when it starts buzzing against his desk, he knows his heads been out of it, the chat keeps asking if he’s alright and he keeps ignoring, his brain playing on repeat of Kuro being fine then being dragged out of his sight, hopeless to do anything. 

He glances over, and he doesn’t have enough forethought to, mute his mic when he pulls off his headphones and grabs it, picking up right away when he sees Kuro’s face pop up with the picture of him from the month he tried to grow facial hair.  
“Tetsu.” He breathes as soon as he picks up. 

“Hi.” there are sniffles, “I’m okay.” 

His eyes flicker over to the chat which is exploding, his face flushes as he mutes his mic, and pushes away from his desk for extra safety, “Where are you?” he runs a hand through his hair, ignoring the sound of his hair tie hitting the floor. 

“I’m--” He hears a door close softly over the line, “In the bathroom.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yes?”

Kenma slides to the floor tipping his head back against the wall, “Bullshit.” He says bluntly, he doesn’t take it back as much as the following silence threatens to swallow him whole. He picks at a part of his jeans, closing his eyes tightly, “Stop saying you’re okay when you’re not. I’m not going anywhere.” his chest feels tight, the words coming out as a mumbled mess. 

“Don’t make me cry, I just did that in front of millions.” his voice sounds watery and rough, and Kenma wishes he was there instead of miles away. 

He takes a deep breath, holding it a second, listening to Kuro’s hiccupy breathing as he fights off his tears. 

His silence rewards him, “I saw my mom, okay?” 

Everything in him freezes, he hasn’t heard Kuro ever talk about his mom besides the fact that she left when he was young before he could really remember, that’s all he ever got out of him, his nails bite into his palms, “Your mom?” he asks, he tries to keep emotion out of his voice. 

“Yeah... she contacted me a few years ago, and when--when I said I--I didn’t want to talk to her, she--I had to change my number.” Everything suddenly makes sense and he wishes he fought more all those years ago. 

Kenma shakes his head, “She was there?” 

Kuro makes a choking sound, “Uhh yeah, she was.” It’s so quiet he almost misses it, for the first time in his life Kenma wants to punch someone. 

“Can she get to you?” 

“No, no, we’re back at the hotel she doesn’t know where I am.” 

It’s not until hours later that he gets up off the floor and is sitting behind his desk unmuting his mic, he tries to act as nothing happened. 

When he’s laying in bed that night, he lets himself think about how after all that he had to calm Kuro down again, he hated this. 

Because he was desperately in love with his best friend. 

+1

Kenma’s 23 when he can’t take it anymore, Kuro’s stood in front of the coffee maker, barely awake, still in his pyjamas leaning on the counter, eyes barely opened as he watches the coffee drip down slowly like it’s the most mesmerizing thing in the world. 

He’s been up for hours having gotten up to feed the cat, Kuro only rolling out of bed with the most impressive bedhead he’s had in a while at 12 PM, he’s supposed to be only staying with him until the end of the week Kenma has to keep reminding himself that. 

Kenma admits to himself that he wants him here all the time, to watch him walk into the living room and for him to see him and smile one of those smiles so unlike the cocky ones for others. 

He wants Kuro to interrupt his streams with texts about stupid facts well he’s in the other room watching planet earth. 

He wants Kuro to wake him up late at night to show him memes that he’s seen before, he wants Kuro to hug him as tightly as he does when he has to leave but all the time, he wants him to be there when Kenma can’t sleep. 

He wants to be there for Kuro when he’s happy when he’s sad when he can’t get out of bed in the mornings or wants to be there when he laughs so hard he falls out of his chairs.

It’s when Kuro’s pouring his cream into his coffee that he can’t take it any longer, he cracks. Kuro’s glasses are falling down his nose. His mouth seems to have a mind of its own because instead of asking him to pass the cream what comes out of his mouth instead is;

“I’m in love with you.” 

Fucking, fucking, fuck. What the fuck, that’s not what he meant to say.

Everything seems to freeze, Kuro locks eyes with him and stares, Kenma can’t breathe the whole time he’s looking, he’s digging his nails into his palms, he’s chest feels tight, and he doesn’t think he could talk if he wanted to, and god did he want to say something, anything to get the look off of Kuro’s face. 

It’s only when Kuro’s cup overflows with cream that he can move again, quickly moving the cream away from the cup, and grabbing the cloth from the stove, and putting it in the puddle of coffee that’s more cream than coffee. 

It’s only when Kuro clears his throat that he notices he’s very much still holding onto Kuro’s wrist, letting it go as it burned him he starts cleaning up the coffee double time, cleaning up all the cream on the counter, he picks up the cup, and pours some of it out, walking back over the coffee maker he pours more coffee into it so it’s a light brown, he pushes it out Kuro hands, and walks out of the kitchen and down the hall to his room, slamming the door behind him. 

It’s only when he’s sitting on the bed head in his hands, he takes a deep breath.

He smells of coffee. 

He gulps, oh God.

His face heats up, he doesn’t think he’ll ever leave his room again, not well Kuro’s out there probably trying to think of what to do, because the person he’s only ever seen as his friend just told him that he was in love with him. 

Some part of his brain tries to reason that maybe, maybe Kuro wouldn’t see it that way, maybe he just heard that he loved him, because he’s said that before right? In like a friend way… 

He groans into his hands because there’s no way he didn’t hear him and all of what he said, they were right next to each other. When he hears a knock at his door he almost hopes that if he stays quiet enough Kuro will leave, but that’s never worked in the past. 

Kuro opens the door, two coffee cups in hand, he puts them both on the bedside table. He sits awkwardly next to him, his hands start fiddling with one another as soon as they have nothing to hold on to. 

Kenma can’t help but look at him, how long his eyelashes are, and how there’s a small mole on the side of his neck, his fingers long and pale, and rough from years of playing volleyball. 

He can’t make himself look away if this is the last time he sees Kuro--Kuroo he’s going to take it all in. 

When Kuro looks up at him, stopping fiddling with his hands, Kenma hands have fallen to his lap as he watches Kuro collect his words. His eyes look away from his staring at the wall, “Did you mean it?” 

Kenma stops in his tracks, his hands pick at some lint on his sweater, that’s no what the was expecting, he nods his head, “Yes.” he’d never say that to someone without meaning it. 

When he doesn’t hear anything right away he looks up, Kuro’s already looking at him, it knocks the breath out of him, the smile that spreads on his face makes something in stomach flop. 

“Me too.” 

He doesn’t bother fighting the smile on his own face back, “Really?” brushing hair behind his ear he looks up at him. 

Kuro lets out a breathy laugh, “I’ve been in love with you since my second year of high school.” 

Things seem to fall down around him, he watches as a flush spreads across Kuro’s cheeks as his eyes flicker away and lock back on to his. 

He doesn’t know who moves first, his arms wrap around Kuro’s shoulders, and they’re falling into bed, Kuro landing softly against the pillows knocking his glasses askew. “This isn’t fake?” 

Kenma shakes his head, running a hand through Kuro’s bedhead, “Nope.” he presses a kiss to his nose. “That was pretty real.” 

Then he’s leaning closer and their mouths are meeting, softly. And it’s the most real thing Kenma’s ever felt, and he never wants to kiss anyone else. 

It was easy to fall for Kuro, even if he couldn’t always be there if there were fights, secrets, tears, heartache. He wants to spend as much time as he can with Kuro in any way possible.

**Author's Note:**

> if there are any mistakes thats between me and god. 
> 
> thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated.
> 
> Until next time-TooAceForThisShit.


End file.
